Dance With Me

by Kristin Leigh

  Major slid his palms up and down her back in a rough caress before taking her ass in his hands and lifting. Rebecca gasped against his mouth as he set her down on a hard surface, but didn’t open her eyes or separate their lips. This was the most sensual kiss of her life, and she didn’t want it to end.

  Rebecca felt Major’s warm hands against her thighs, jerking her legs open scant seconds before he pulled her to the edge of…whatever it was she was sitting on. The table? The desk? It didn’t matter because he was kissing her with such desperate ferocity.

  Major slid his arms back around her, the soft touch causing her to shiver and press closer to him. He unsnapped her bra and yanked it off. Before Rebecca could blink, a loud rip told her that her panties were about to disappear too.

  Major placed a hand between her breasts and pushed, urging her to lie back. Rebecca complied, finally realizing she was sitting bare-assed on her kitchen table. Well, lying on her kitchen table.

  When the cool wood sent shivers down her spine, Rebecca finally opened her eyes. Major was standing between her thighs, his heated stare slowly traveling up and down her body. She’d never been ashamed to be a plus-sized woman, but this man—this silent, mysterious man—made her wish for a slender, pliable figure that could bend in any way he could fathom.

  “Major.” Rebecca reached for him, stretching her arms until her fingertips touched his chest. Major’s gaze flew to her face, the harsh lines of his face softer than they had been before.

  “You are the sexiest woman I think I’ve ever seen.”

  Rebecca blushed at his praise, and made a conscious decision to believe him. “Your clothes,” she whispered, tugging lightly at a button on his shirt.

  “No!” He jerked away from her quickly, stepping out of her reach.

  Rebecca leaned up on her elbows and lifted an eyebrow in question.

  Major lifted his arm and rubbed the back of his neck. “I…I have scars,” he whispered.

  “And I’m overweight,” Rebecca responded with a shrug. “So what?” She sat up and grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled. When he stood between her thighs once more, she wrapped her legs around his hips. “Did you get your scars in prison or a gang fight?”

  Major tilted his head to the side. “No, they…”

  Rebecca interrupted before he could finish. “What about while murdering or raping someone? Did you get the scars then?”

  “No,” he ground out from between clenched teeth.

  “Ah,” Rebecca murmured. “So you got them while serving and protecting your country.”

  Major looked away, his jaw tight. “I wish it were that simple.”

  Rebecca’s heart clenched with understanding. She might not like Uniforms on a personal level, but held nothing but the utmost respect for the job they did. She didn’t want to do it, after all. It stood to reason then, that Rebecca should be grateful that someone stood between her and…well, whoever was threatening the country on any particular day. And Major did that without a uniform to protect him.

  “It is that simple. And your scars aren’t something to be ashamed of.” Rebecca slipped the top button from the hole slowly, waiting for his reaction. Major didn’t have one. He watched her through narrowed eyes, his hands resting lightly on her thighs. “Every scar shows strength that most people are lacking. It’s a mark on someone else’s soul. Not yours.” Another button came undone beneath Rebecca’s questing fingertips.

  When Major tightened his hands on her thighs, she stopped and looked up at him, waiting. His expression was distant and savage as he growled, “You have no idea about the marks on my soul.” Major shook his head and pulled away slightly before he looked down at his still-covered chest. “The scars…they’re bad. I can’t even look anymore. I don’t expect you to…”

  “Why don’t you let me decide what I can and can’t look at, hmm?” Rebecca slid her fingers over his and whispered, “Show me.”

  He met her direct stare, his eyes hard and unsure. Rebecca’s chest squeezed and hot tears stung her eyes. This is a man I could love. She couldn’t have this man or any man like him. Rebecca knew that. But she could enjoy this moment, this one night with Major.

  “Show me,” she whispered again.

  Major took a deep breath, his chest expanding. He slid his hands from beneath hers and slowly unbuttoned the shirt. Rebecca kept her eyes on his despite the temptation to look.

  When he slipped the shirt from his shoulders Major closed his eyes and took another deep breath.

  Then Rebecca looked and felt as though all of the oxygen had been sucked from the room.

  “I told you.”

  His shoulders, chest, and abdomen were completely hidden beneath the scars there. A pink burn covered his left shoulder down to his elbow and stretched down the left side of his torso to disappear beneath his khaki pants. She counted at least six circular, puckered scars that she assumed were bullet wounds. A jagged line ran from beneath his right arm, down his side, and around to his back. And that wasn’t even all.

  The tears that had been building behind her eyes suddenly spilled over and Rebecca blinked them away. “No one ever gets to know how much you’ve done? All you’ve given up? Everything you’ve been through? You’ll”—she choked on the next word—“die with no one ever knowing?” It was too much. That was the kind of sacrifice Rebecca could never understand.

  “You’ll know.” Major’s voice was soft, and he tilted her face up with a finger beneath her chin. “You’ll know, and that’s enough.”

  Major was suddenly kissing her again and Rebecca clutched him to her, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He pulled away less than an inch and said, “I’m safe, clean. I can’t get you pregnant. But I’ll wear a condom if you want me to.”

  Rebecca shook her head. Whether or not he could get her pregnant was irrelevant since Rebecca couldn’t have children anyway. It was a moot point. And if Major said he was clean, well, she would believe it. “No. You don’t have to. I’m clean too.”

  He didn’t respond, just kissed her again, thrusting his tongue deep. Major slid his palms up her thighs, across her belly, and palmed her breasts. His touch was gentle at first, but when Rebecca arched her back, he pinched her nipples and tugged. The rough touch sent a flood of moisture to her sex that had her rubbing against his erection.

  Major groaned and wrapped his arms around her, tugging Rebecca closer. She ground herself against him, desperate for more. She was so close, closer than she’d ever been without having some kind of direct stimulation. Rebecca didn’t know if it was Major that was the cause or the fact that she’d been so hungry for physical affection for so long.

  With a pained grunt, Major tore his mouth from hers and fumbled with the button of his pants. It finally gave, and he ripped the zipper down and pushed his khakis and boxers down at the same time. His quivering member sprang free, precum already beading from the plush head. Rebecca wrapped her hand around him and stroked. Major’s head fell back and his breathing accelerated. His hips arched into her hands and Rebecca spread the dampness with her thumb until the bulbous head was moist with his own arousal.

  Major didn’t let her touch for long but knocked her hand away and spread her thighs. Rebecca thought he was going to push a finger inside, but he simply parted the lips of her sex and adjusted his stance until his the head of his cock rested against her.

  Rebecca slid her hands into his hair as he placed his hands on either side of her hips, bracing himself. With a short grunt, he pushed himself completely inside of her pussy.

  Rebecca tightened her legs around him and arched. She felt so full, so tight that it was almost painful, but oh so good. When she let her head fall back, Major latched his lips onto the pulse in her neck, licking and sucking until Rebecca was light-headed.

  He thrust slowly at first, hard strokes that took him so deeply inside of her that Rebecca felt a twinge of pain with each plunge. She lifted her hips, pushing herself against him until the angle was just right, th
e pressure against her clit perfect and constant. Rebecca clung to him, loving the feel of his rough chest against her nipples, the slickness of sweat that coated their bodies.

  Major increased his pace, hammering against her until Rebecca clenched around him tightly, struggling for the orgasm that hovered so close. Her movements grew frantic, and small moans escaped her with each rough thrust of Major’s hips. He bit down on her neck, and Rebecca’s entire body clenched and held before her orgasm exploded through her. Major’s plunges slowed and became jerky, probably due to the death grip she had on him. Rebecca ground her pelvis against his, working herself up and down his length until the rippling spasms ceased.

  When Rebecca relaxed around him, Major pulled her arms down to her sides and pushed until she was lying on the table. His eyes were glazed with desperation and his hands clenched her hips in a bruising grip.

  Rebecca palmed her breasts, pushing them together beneath his watchful gaze. Major groaned and pounded wildly into her, his eyes darting back and forth from her breasts to their joined bodies. He covered Rebecca’s hands with his and tugged her nipples until they ached.

  A harsh groan was torn from Major’s chest and his pace slowed suddenly. Rebecca felt the hot spurts of his release deep inside and squeezed her pussy around him. He drove into her over and over, each plunge accompanied by the wet sound of sex.

  When the last ounce of pleasure was drained from him, Major leaned over her and placed his hands next to Rebecca’s head. He kissed her softly, massaging her tongue with his.

  Major finally lifted his head and just stared at her, his expression severe and closed once more. His eyes though, his eyes were soft and Rebecca thought she saw a smile for just an instant. He stood, tugging her to a sitting position and pulled his penis from her.

  Rebecca looked down. She barely noticed the burn scar that covered his left hip and thigh. What she did observe, however, was that his dick was still as erect as it had been when he’d first shucked his pants, despite the fact that it was coated in his cum. Rebecca blinked rapidly and looked up at him. Great sex doesn’t happen often.

  “Are you up for a double header?” Rebecca trailed a finger from his collarbone, down his chest and abs, and to the tip of his penis.

  “Looks that way, doesn’t it?” Major didn’t smile or wait for a response. He simply lifted Rebecca with his hands beneath her ass and turned to carry her to the bed.

  Chapter 6

  The major stood by Rebecca’s bed, fully clothed and shoes in hand. He soaked her in, trying to commit every detail to memory. The major didn’t have many good memories to call upon, and this was one he didn’t want to fade. He wanted to remember the sound of the rain, softer than it had been earlier; the distant crash of thunder as the storm moved on; the way the moonlight spilled from the window and across Rebecca’s bare form as she slept peacefully.

  The major knew, deep down, that he should forget every second he’d spent in Rebecca’s presence and realign his focus to the mission. After all, it was only a single night, a handful of incredible orgasms, and it may have been a one-night stand for her. But he wouldn’t forget it, couldn’t, because for him it was so much more.

  She’d seen his scars, knew there was blood on his hands, and had accepted him anyway. That meant something to him, dammit, and the major was afraid it might be the last thing that did.

  Rebecca stirred and hummed softly in her sleep, a slight smile turning up her lips. The major drank in the sight of her hungrily, memorizing every curve, line, and curl on her body. He wanted to stay, to crawl back into bed with her and hold her until dawn. He steeled himself against the urge.

  The major took one last, lingering look and turned away. He moved silently through the house and locked the door before closing it soundlessly behind him. He couldn’t stay. With a resigned, painful sigh, the major walked away, trying very hard to ignore the tightness in his chest.

  As he’d done countless times, he tucked his humanity into a deep, dark corner of his subconscious and let the Black Ops soldier take over.

  * * * *

  Rebecca’s alarm went off at six in the morning, the irritating screech jolting her awake and into a sitting position. She looked around groggily, trying to find the rolling alarm clock. It was quite possibly the most irritating alarm clock on the face of the earth, which also made it the most effective.

  When Rebecca was in college, her friend Tara Marshall had given her the stupid little thing in an attempt to cure Rebecca’s chronic tardiness. The first rolling alarm clock had suffered a tragic accident. It had rolled off Rebecca’s nightstand and under the bed before it had taken a one-way flight out of a third-story dorm room window.

  This was Rebecca’s fourth moving clock, and she had a sneaky suspicion it would soon suffer a similar fate. As she crawled under the bed in search of the offensive screeches, Rebecca muttered, “I’ll get you, you little bastard.”

  She squeezed herself as far under the bed as she could and finally reached the alarm. She flipped the button on the top to turn it off and scooted backward until she was no longer in danger of whacking her head on the bottom of her bed.

  With an irritated sigh, Rebecca leaned against her bed and closed her eyes. A warm stickiness between her thighs became obvious and then uncomfortable. Rebecca snapped her eyes open when the events of the previous night came back.

  Major. The major. Whatever. Is he still here? Trying her best to be silent, Rebecca turned and glanced into her bed. No one. She sat back down with a plop and buried her face in her hands as the memories came back in graphic detail.

  “Squeeze me. Like you did before.” A deep groan, then, “Holy fucking hell, that’s incredible. Again.”

  Rebecca shook her head from side to side, hysterical laughter spilling from her lips.

  “What are you doing?” Rebecca watched Major nervously.

  “Cleaning you.” He wiped gently with a washcloth. “I want to make you come with my tongue. And then I want you to return the favor.” A cynical smile then, “If you want to.”

  Rebecca peeped from between her fingers, a little giddy from the realization that she’d finally had great sex. She stood with a little hop and giggle and danced across her room to the bathroom. Great sex. Capital letters, bold, italics, underlined.

  And now Major was gone and Rebecca would never see him again. Her little dance halted and her smile faded. Where did he go? Is he safe? Will he come back?

  Rebecca may not have known the answer to the first two questions, but she certainly knew the answer to the third. No, he’ll never come back. Her heart thudded and dropped. Already she wanted to see him again. Not Rick, with his falseness, but Major. Major, who was plagued by his past, present, and future, but stood tall anyway, shouldering responsibility like Atlas and asking nothing in return.

  Rebecca’s eyes burned and she blinked back tears. She would not cry. She’d known the instant she reached her hand out to touch him that he couldn’t stay, that one night was all they would ever have. And she’d touched him anyway.

  “Don’t.” His eyes were fierce, heated, and desperate with a longing she knew he didn’t want to show. “Not if you’re just teasing me.”

  Rebecca closed her eyes against the remembrance and braced herself. Keeping her mind carefully blank she began her morning routine to get ready for school.

  The day dragged by for Rebecca, filled with flurries of children that were constantly excited. They were always high-strung for weeks after Christmas break because everyone knew that summer vacation was approaching. She loved her students, each and every one of them, and always cried when the school year ended. But she was tense the entire day, due in part to her night with Major, and the children’s restlessness proved difficult.

  When the final bell rang, Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief. Finally. The rain was back, a soft drizzle that often signified no lightning was forthcoming. Rebecca was glad because that meant she could drive to the pier. And she desperately needed a good, c
leansing walk in the rain after the previous night. Something to clear her head. It was out of the way, but an ocean side stroll in the rain would soothe her frayed nerves.

  The parking lot was empty when Rebecca arrived, due to the weather and the time of year. Late January was too cold for beachcombers to be out, despite how unseasonably warm it had been. Rebecca paid for parking and headed for the dock. The dark gray of old, faded wood stretched before her, gentle waves lapping at the beams and the slow pitter-patter of rain already hushing her riotous thoughts. Rebecca knew that with her past, the ocean and rain were two things that should scare her most. Instead they gave her a sense of direction and comfort.

  Rebecca stopped at the halfway point and leaned against the rail. She tilted her face to the sky and smiled. Sometimes, if she tried really hard, she could recall a few good memories.

  “You have to put your faith somewhere. Why not in God?” Mrs. Rousseau’s voice grated. It was the speech of someone who had smoked a pack a day—probably from birth.

  “If God was as good as you say, He would have saved me already.” Rebecca pressed the ice pack against her eye.

  A growling laugh. “Have you asked?”

  Rebecca closed her eyes. Mrs. Rousseau had been right. Sometimes you have to ask for what you want or need. While Rebecca wasn’t religious on the level of Bible-thumping, she did believe in…something. It wasn’t faith, though. It was knowledge. She’d been given irrefutable proof in a higher power long ago and had never questioned it.

  Rebecca watched as a Volkswagen slid off the road and into a ditch. Hard-driving rain pushed against her skin with bruising force. Hail bounced off her skull and the wind whipped at her hair and clothing. But she continued walking, her steps sure and steady despite the tempest.

  Rebecca shivered and straightened, turning those thoughts off. Thar be dragons. She continued strolling to the end of the dock, her thoughts meandering back to Major.

  “Most people are basically good.”